


Sleepless in Stanhope

by leggsyunwin



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Midnight Conversations, hurt/comfort ish, mostly just sappy hartwin content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 07:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10329551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leggsyunwin/pseuds/leggsyunwin
Summary: Sometimes Eggsy wakes up with his heartbeat fading in his every breath, and it takes a moment for the world to rush up around his body.





	

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the incredibly cheesy title i literally couldn't think of ANYTHING else aaa  
> I hope you enjoy !!!

Sometimes Eggsy wakes up with his heartbeat fading in his every breath, and it takes a moment for the world to rush up around his body.

This is one of those times, and he stares up at the ceiling for what feels like an eternity.

Eggsy knows he's at home, hips encompassed by the rich cotton sheets on this hot July evening, but his mind still rolodexes through the checklist he's built himself when on missions. He tests the movement of all of his fingers, the movement rippling from his thumb to his pinky and back again. Then his arms, flexing his wrists and rolling his shoulders simultaneously. The rest of his body falls into place afterwards, and his eyes adjust to the dark of the room and the slit of streetlight casting across the room through the curtains.  
  
Across from him, the second body in the bed stills for a moment, before rolling over to face Eggsy and continuing his slumber. It's Harry, his brain supplies. Safe.

The world continues to spin on its axis, the clock on the bedside table keeps ticking, and Eggsy Unwin is not going to die tonight.

He was having a nightmare, although he can't put his finger on what specifically it was. Night tremor or just a dream? Eggsy can't really tell the difference between the sheen of sweat on his chest and the taste of lead on his lips, and he never remembers enough to linger. A car passes nearly silently at the end of the Mews, and Eggsy's ears are fine-tuned to hear the thrum of an engine from two hundred metres away. It's most likely a late-night taxi dropping off clubbers, it always is on this part of London where the old money is extravagant. Eggsy's unsure why he's pondering it.

He turns his attention to the sleeping man next to him, whose hand is outstretched in the space between them in the lavish four-poster bed. Eggsy can't see too much, the light shimmering on the soft of Harry's stomach and the sheet that cuts across his navel. His eyes work up over the rise and fall of Harry's chest, the slack of his jaw, the dip in the pillow where his head rests.

It's rare that Eggsy gets a moment to simply watch anymore, and he likes to savour every moment that he can. Ever since he started working for Kingsman, his life has been a constant cycle of training, travelling, tracking and terminating. He and Harry are lucky if they get to share more than a day off together, let alone a domestic life at Stanhope. His returning role as Arthur is punishing, and Eggsy's role as Galahad is nothing less than extraordinary, and they find time for each-other regardless.

Tonight is one of these rare moments that they're able to be in each other's company, and Eggsy relishes the three days that will follow. They'd worked themselves to the point of exhaustion at a conference in America the previous month, and Merlin was quick to intervene and suggest a few days off. Eggsy had hoped for a week, Harry for no more than a few days due to his persistent role within the organization and absolutely nothing against spending time with Eggsy personally. Merlin had persisted with four, and four days it is.

Eggsy knows it will wake him, but he can't resist sliding his hand over the top of Harry's outstretched one. It's almost instantaneous with the way he rouses himself, inhaling sharply and blinking his eyes open to adjust to the darkened room. Eggsy uses the adjustment period for Harry to slide his foot in the gap between his two ankles. No doubt Harry's checking off his own mental list, using merely a few seconds to recognise the feeling of Eggsy's skin against his own.

"Eg-" His voice is rich with sleep, which he coughs away before he has the chance to truly appreciate it, "Eggsy."

Eggsy smiles at him in the darkness, using his hand on Harry's to guide him safely closer to the warm body beside him. Harry's fingers are clammy and alive, and Eggsy accepts them as they trace over his palm and up to his wrist where he shivers softly.

"Hey," Eggsy whispers, pressing the softest of kisses to the jut of Harry's collarbone. It makes his skin stiffen with goosebumps, which Eggsy feels under his lips as he presses another to Harry's shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Harry asks, turning to catch Eggsy's nose with his own and wheel him in for a short kiss. His lips still vaguely have a tint of minty toothpaste to them, and Eggsy grumbles slightly as his own lips tingle again.

"Mm. Bad dream, I guess," Eggsy grumbles, tracing his nose down the side of Harry's cheek. "Didn't mean to wake you."

It's a lie, which makes Harry smile and slide his hand from Eggsy's wrist to his hip.

"You're fine." Harry's breath fans his face, strong leg pulling Eggsy closer. "I'm here."

"For once." It's a joke at both of their expenses, neither of them having lavished in their thousand-thread count sheets in far too long. Eggsy curls his toes, thriving at the hot skin and cool sheets that encompass his foot. Harry's head dips down in the pool of Eggsy's neck, pressing kisses to the constellation of moles he discovers.

" _Forever_ ," Harry corrects reverently, in their tangle of skin and mess of sheets, and Eggsy's eyes flutter shut as Harry's kisses send him to sleep like a minty lullaby.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [firth-jpeg](http://firth-jpeg.tumblr.com) on Tumblr ! Come say hi ❤


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